


About Time

by Cryptographic_Delurk



Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: F/M, Fantastic Racism, Gen, Post-Canon, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:22:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21740884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptographic_Delurk/pseuds/Cryptographic_Delurk
Summary: Harley is forever mindful of the place he occupies in Asgard as a half-elf.Raine is ready to not care and throw the biggest fuck-off wedding she can.
Relationships: Aisha/Harley (Tales of Symphonia), Linar/Raine Sage
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	About Time

**Author's Note:**

> I’m obsessed with these NPCs.

He’d always played aloof. Or as aloof as he could when, at his core, he was desperate.

When Harley came to Asgard and moved into the empty cavern at the bottom of the mountain he never thought he’d stay for long, or that a pair of his neighbours – brother and sister – would invite his companionship so completely. But they did, and he stayed, even if he was forever mindful.

He’d built up walls around himself, so that when his other neighbours complained, always just within earshot –  _ How could half elves just live here out in the open? How could Linar and Aisha be so unbothered by him? –  _ Harley would glare and walk away and act like it didn’t get to him. And he developed a reputation for being tough and a little scary.

But it did get to him, and so when he went over to Aisha and Linar’s immaculate house and did the dishes to thank them for making dinner, and Aisha walked up next to him and placed her hand over his, he brushed it away and reached for the soap and acted like he didn’t notice.

And there were things he couldn’t ignore, of course, like Aisha being offered up as a sacrifice at the alter. But anything he could afford to ignore, he did. So he didn’t even spit any venom over all the men that had the nerve to ask Aisha out when they’d been too cowardly to do anything when her life was endangered.

And sometimes he found himself thinking of how much better Aisha and Linar were than him, because they chose to be kind when they didn’t need to be, and invited the scrutiny of the other villagers by associating with him when they didn’t need to. And then he would resent them, because wasn’t it nice to be a human and get to choose whether or not you wanted to be scrutinised or mistrusted or a pariah?

When Harley finally told them so, lashing out in the middle of an argument about other things, Aisha just shook her head angrily, pulled on her wool scarf and mittens, and left her own house for a walk to cool off. And Linar had said, in an uncharacteristically assertive voice, that he understood, that it was fine that Harley was angry at them, even if there wasn’t much any of them could do about it.

And having cleared the air and realising the cliffs of Asgard hadn’t come crumbling down around him, Harley felt a bit better. His workshop remained a mess, but he started clearing out his cavern’s front room. He swept away stray papers and bottles, cleared the table and stocked the cupboard, flipped his mattress and washed his bedsheets. And he thought, one day, he could have Aisha and Linar over to visit, to return the favour for all the times they’d let him into their home. And even if it was only a dream, because banishing the shame and insecurity to do so seemed still an evermounting task, it was a nice dream to have.

Raine of course didn’t care about any of these things. Or acted enough like she didn’t that it made no difference either way in a practical sense.

It all happened very fast, but pretty soon Harley had lost count of the days that he’d left Aisha’s house in the evening, Linar and Raine in the corner talking furiously about archaeology with stars in their eyes, and then come back the next day to find them more or less in the same configuration.

Linar’s room filled up with extra piles of books and pieces of magitechnology, enough to rival Harley’s workshop. And at some point a discarded piece of lingerie cut in black lace worked its way behind the desk, and Linar was very embarrassed when Harley spotted it.

And pretty soon it was some giant, exuberant over the top event. Linar and Raine had decided on a traditional wedding, which for most people would have meant one in the style their parents and grandparents had used, and which for Linar and Raine meant a historical re-enactment of a ritual some two thousand years out of date.

They were going to have a great feast, and dragon carriage rides, and everyone from Asgard and most of Luin was coming, and also everyone from that newfangled floating city, Exire, which had shown up in the sky sometime after Raine and the Chosen had saved the world or something. And Raine and Linar were going to be dressed in costume and do some ritual dance with wind and fire magic at the alter. And perhaps the only good part was that there was no particular dress code for anyone other than the bride and groom, and people were encouraged to show up how they liked. But if you otherwise mentioned how ridiculous this whole event was, you ran the risk of Raine kicking you in the gut with her boots and boundless enthusiasm, so Harley tried his best not to mention it.

When the day came, Raine’s little brother showed up in a stiff-looking tuxedo, with that wandering swordsman guy hanging off his arm. Which was to be expected.

What was less expected, was when the city of Exire docked somewhere near the city entrance and its inhabitants flooded Asgard’s streets, holding bundles of flowers. Harley, and a good portion of the city of Asgard, had apparently missed the memo that Exire was populated almost entirely by half elves. But it seemed the majority of Asgard and the rest of the wedding party were united in the desire to celebrate, so any hostilities that might otherwise have occurred were somehow suppressed in the interest of the ceremony going smoothly.

It did go smoothly – more smoothly and enjoyably than Harley thought it would be.

The festivities started at dusk and proceeded into full night, lit by stars and torchlight.

Raine and Linar did their dance and made their vows, which basically boiled down to a commitment to pursue knowledge and history and the wonders of magitechnology together as allies for as long as they both shall live.

Harley sat at the feast table, near Raine’s brother, and realised that he’d missed whatever point Genis and Raine had stopped trying to pass as full-blood elves.

“What am I going to tell the villagers when they ask me why I covered for you and agreed that you were regular old elves?” Harley asked, only half joking.

Genis shrugged. “I don’t know. Tell them you were mistaken about being mistaken. Or tell them you were covering for us. Whatever you have to say.” But then he got distracted by his swordsman friend attempting to feed him carrot salad off his fork. “Cut it out, Lloyd!”

Harley felt too shy to know how to approach many of the other guests, his own people or not. But a couple of them surprised him by coming up and ask him about Asgard and what it was like to live amongst humans. And he was introduced to the bride’s mother, an elf who seemed to have a tentative grasp on reality but seemed happy to be there all the same. And Harley thought he might feel the same way – happy to be here even if he wasn’t sure how to connect. It was nice to feel not so unusual, surrounded by all these people of all these different walks of life.

But eventually he’d had to walk past the worst of his neighbours and they said, as always in a voice just within earshot –  _ See, I knew trouble would come from just allowing that half elf to live here unchallenged. Now there’s a whole city of them bearing down upon us. And pretty soon Linar will have little half elf kids running around all over the place. We’ve invited this travesty upon ourselves! _

And of course they didn’t have the courage to say these things in front of Raine, who had saved Asgard, and then gone on to save the world, and had on top of it been part of the group that single-handedly funded the rebuilding of the human city of Luin. But they’d say it in front of Harley, who was alone and hadn’t surrounded himself with supporters.

And, nevertheless, he felt somehow glad and empowered by the picture they had painted. The wedding guests would clear out and Exire would fly off the following day. But already something about Asgard had changed irregardless.

When they recreated the grand story of their love later, Harley decided to leave out that spite had been what finally pushed him into asking her out. But it had been. He’d make a city his bigoted neighbours hated with his own hands and own love if he had to.

He sought out Aisha, who was wrapped in a brightly dyed dress and a black woolen shawl. She was near the inn at the entrance of the city, offering good tidings to any visitors that were turning in early. She had been one of the chief planners for Raine and Linar’s wedding, and had been grossly occupied for almost the entirety of the last couple weeks. But she made space for him to come stand next to her as she shook people’s hands and thanked them for attending.

“Hey,” Harley said. And he was aware he sounded inelegant and foolish, but he would say it before his courage left him anyhow. “Do you want to go on one of those romantic carriage rides? Or something? With me?”

“I think that’s terribly unfair of you, Harley,” Aisha said. She did not look at him, as she was imbetween wishing off the guests.

And for a moment Harley couldn’t tell if his hopes fell or not, if he had even remembered to get his hopes up in the first place. But then Aisha continued-

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask for such a long time. And when you finally do, it’s on a night I can’t be properly exuberant about it, unless I want to risk stealing Raine and Linar’s thunder.”

Harley considered this, and then reached across her back to place his hand nonchalantly on Aisha’s shoulder. Even as she reached to shake another guest’s hand and thank them.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, more to himself than to her. He probably shouldn’t have waited so long.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said in a fierce whisper, and she raised a hand up to her shoulder to clasp his.


End file.
